


The Rescue

by Caedmon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Human, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Meet-Cute, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 19:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30009897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: Anathema has convinced Aziraphale to come to a bar in Mayfair with her on a Friday night, but she's delayed in meeting him. While he waits, he's approached by a handsome man who quickly makes a pest of himself. He's trying to figure out a way to escape... when a gorgeous, perfect stranger swoops in and saves him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 243
Kudos: 318
Collections: GO Fics That Got It Right, Good Omens Human AUs





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lurlur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lurlur/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LURLUR!!!
> 
> This is a birthday gift for Lurlur, my twin, who asked for a meet cute in which Aziraphale is being pestered in a bar and Crowley comes to his rescue. Sexytimes ensue. So that's what I've written! The second, smutty chapter will be up soon, although I don't have an exact timeline. I have it half written and as long as the muse cooperates, I should have it up in about a week!
> 
> This fic is unbeta’d, so all the mistakes are on me. 
> 
> Please wish my beloved twin, Lurlur, a happy birthday in the comments!!

The bar was crowded, which Aziraphale supposed he should have expected. Anathema had been raving about this place for weeks, insisting that they simply _had_ to come here, and he’d put her off as long as he could until she’d finally worn him down. He’d agreed to meet her here tonight, at this crowded bar in Mayfair, and had regretted it as soon as he’d walked in and seen the crowd - and the little stage at the front of the room. There hadn’t been a table to sit at, and he’d been forced to put his name down with the hostess for a table. She’d informed him that it would be at least an hour before one became available, and he wondered whether he would be willing to wait an entire hour. The wine - or music - couldn’t be _that_ good.

But he went to the bar, ordered a glass of white, and settled in to wait until Anathema got there. It was a nice place, he supposed, looking around, if one liked bars. It was clean and a bit upscale, and seemed to cater to a slightly classier crowd. Which he reckoned made sense, since they were in Mayfair. In truth, he felt a little out of place in his usual kit, but there was nothing to be done for it now. He just had to kill time until Anathema arrived. 

He’d been sitting at the bar long enough to finish his first glass and was contemplating a second when his mobile went off. He picked it up to see a message from Anathema. 

Anathema: _running a few minutes late. get a table and I’ll be there asap. xoxo_

Aziraphale sighed to himself and sent back a reply. 

Aziraphale: _We’re on a wait list for a table. I’ll be at the bar until I’m seated in about an hour. See you soon._

He put his mobile down, called the bartender over, and ordered another glass of wine. 

The glass of white had just been dropped off when he sensed someone take the seat next to him. Aziraphale looked up to see a tall man, very handsome, with dark, perfectly coiffed hair and violet eyes. He was dressed impeccably in a tailored, light grey suit, and had a lavender tie with a matching scarf around his neck. He was smiling brightly at Aziraphale, and Aziraphale couldn’t decide if he were mildly attracted or mildly annoyed. 

“Hello,” the man said, and Aziraphale noted that his accent was American. That explained a lot. 

“Hello,” he replied politely. 

“Is this seat taken?” the man asked, even though he’d already sat. 

Aziraphale decided he was _not_ , in fact, attracted. “No, it’s not, but I am waiting for someone.”

The man didn’t seem to either hear or acknowledge anything beyond ‘no, it’s not’. “My name is Gabriel,” he said, extending his hand. 

Aziraphale took it tentatively. “Aziraphale.”

Gabriel squinched up his face a bit. “That’s an odd name.”

 _Nope, definitely not attracted_. “Yes, so I’ve been told,” he replied tiredly and turned back to his wine. 

“So,” Gabriel said, grinning toothily. “Do you come here often? I’ve never seen you before.”

“No, I’ve never been here before. This is my first time. I usually stick closer to my own neighborhood.”

“What neighborhood is that?”

“Soho.”

He curled his nose again. “Really? Well, I suppose home is home.”

Aziraphale started plotting ways to get away from this man without making a scene. 

“I suppose it’s my lucky night that you’ve decided to come to Mayfair, then.”

“Hmm,” Aziraphale hummed noncommittally. 

“I come here often. I like to meet interesting people. You seem fairly interesting.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, deliberately not meeting his eye. 

“So what do you do, Azi… Az…”

“Aziraphale.”

“Yes. That.”

“I run a bookshop.”

“That doesn’t sound terribly exciting.”

He felt a flash of annoyance - with this man for being a pest, and with Anathema for not being here to save him. 

“Yes, well, it’s probably not exciting for most people, but I like it.”

“Different strokes for different folks, I guess.”

Aziraphale very much wanted Gabriel to move on and find someone else to pester, and was considering just getting up and leaving. Going home. He could text Anathema when he left and simply call off the entire evening. The only thing stopping him was his nearly full glass of wine. 

“I’m an attorney,” Gabriel said, ignoring Aziraphale ignoring him. “A partner, actually. At the firm of Messenger and Engel.”

“How lovely.”

“It’s one of the biggest firms in London, and we have offices all over the world. I just came back from Tokyo, in fact.”

Aziraphale perked up a little in spite of himself. “I’ve always wanted to visit Tokyo. I do so love sushi.”

Gabriel curled his nose again. “Gross matter,” he said. “How can you eat that stuff?”

“I find it delightful,” Aziraphale sniffed.

“Well, here’s hoping you have better taste in other areas,” he said, then winked. Aziraphale looked back to his wine, hoping he would just go away. 

“You know, you’re kind of attractive, Aziraphale. In a soft sort of way,” he added, and the way he said ‘soft’ made Aziraphale think it wasn’t exactly a compliment. 

He gave a tight smile. “Thank you, I think.”

“How often do you go home with people you meet in bars?” Gabriel asked with a smarmy smile. 

Aziraphale shuddered. “Never,” he said. It wasn’t entirely true, but it had been a long time, and sex with Gabriel was the _last_ thing he wanted.

“Care to make an exception? I don’t usually go for your type, but what the hell. I’m bored. What do you say?”

Aziraphale was going to _throttle_ Anathema. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, come on. Could be fun.” He leaned closer and said in a lower voice, “I’ve got a huge dick.”

“I’ve no interest in finding out,” Aziraphale said stiffly. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak again, and Aziraphale had no idea what vile thing he was about to say, but he felt an arm go around his waist and suddenly, someone was kissing him on the cheek. 

“Hiya, angel. Sorry I’m late. Traffic was hell.”

Aziraphale looked up, surprised, to see a perfect stranger standing with his arm comfortably around him, smiling down at him, and his breath caught. This man - this man was _gorgeous_ , truly the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, with an angled face and stylishly tousled, ginger hair. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but Aziraphale didn’t need to see his whole face to see that he was stunning. He felt his heart pump harder in his chest. But why did this man have his arm around him? Had he made a mistake? Aziraphale had no idea, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. This could solve his Gabriel problem. 

“Oh, hello, dear,” he said with a brilliant smile. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The ginger man played along. “Who’s your friend?” he asked, turning to Gabriel, his arm still firmly around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“This is Gabriel.”

The man extended a hand, still smiling. “I’m Crowley. Thanks for keeping my angel occupied until I could get here.”

“You’re together?” Gabriel asked, his eyebrows raised. 

“We are indeed. Three years now, right, angel?” he said with another smile for Aziraphale, then looked back up at Gabriel. “Celebrating our anniversary tonight, in fact.”

Aziraphale smiled up at the man, Crowley, then at Gabriel. “I did tell you I was waiting for someone,” he said smugly. 

“Yes, you did. Well, I’ll let you two enjoy your date. Have a nice night,” Gabriel said in a disgusted voice, with a face as if he’d smelled something unpleasant, then got up and left.

Once he was gone, Aziraphale turned to look at the man, Crowley, again. “Thank you,” he said, unsure what else to say. 

“No problem,” he said, withdrawing his arm from around his waist. Aziraphale missed the weight and heat immediately. “You looked uncomfortable.”

“I was, very. I was trying to be polite, but he wouldn’t take a hint.”

Crowley looked around the room. “Well, it looks like he’s gone now. I’ll leave you alone.”

“No, wait,” Aziraphale said, a bit more loudly than he’d intended, reaching out to stop him. 

Crowley looked at him with a curious expression. “Wait?”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat a bit. “Yes. Please don’t go. For one thing, what if he comes back? He might have just gone to the washroom.” 

Crowley was grinning. “I suppose that’s true.”

“Besides,” Aziraphale said flirtatiously. “I’d like to buy you a drink. In gratitude. It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, it would be rude of me to say no,” Crowley said, and his smile was _beautiful_. Aziraphale felt his belly flip. He wanted this man, more than he’d wanted anything in a long time. 

“Please, do have a seat, dear,” Aziraphale said, hoping he sounded nonchalant. 

“I’d be happy to,” Crowley said, then sat down on the seat next to Aziraphale, still smiling. Aziraphale wanted to bathe in that smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Oh! So sorry. I’m Aziraphale. Aziraphale Fell,” he said, offering his hand. Crowley took it and he felt a pulse skitter up his arm. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said with a grin. “I like it. It suits you.”

“You like it?”

“Yes, very much. It sounds vaguely angelic, which fits.”

Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat a bit. “How you do run on.”

“I’m serious. My first thought when I saw you was that you looked like an angel.”

Aziraphale flushed, pleased, but before he could speak, the bartender came over and asked Crowley, “What can I get you?”

Crowley glanced up at the bartender, then at Aziraphale. “Can I buy you a drink, angel?”

He felt a thrill all over him. “I rather think I should be buying you a drink, don’t you think? Since you’re my hero.”

“If you insist,” Crowley said with a smile. 

“So what will you have?”

“I think I’d like a scotch on the rocks.” 

Aziraphale turned to the bartender. “A Lagavulin on the rocks and another glass of white, please.”

“Coming right up.”

The bartender left and Aziraphale turned back to Crowley. They talked for a few minutes, until they were served their drinks, and both took a sip. Aziraphale watched the way Crowley’s lips pressed against the glass and the bobbing of his adam’s apple, and wanted to nibble it. 

“So you told that Gabriel guy that you were waiting for someone. Was that true, or were you just trying to get rid of him?”

“No, it was true.”

Crowley looked a bit disappointed. “Oh. I see.”

Aziraphale smiled gently. “My _friend_ , Anathema, should be here anytime, but she’s very late.”

Crowley looked hopeful. “So you have a few minutes to spend with me?”

“I’d like to talk to you longer than a few minutes,” Aziraphale flirted. “I have plenty of time.”

“But what about your friend?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “If Anathema shows up, she can entertain herself. I think I’d rather talk to you.”

Crowley’s face lit up. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Aziraphale took a sip of his wine. “Are you meeting someone tonight?”

“Nah,” Crowley said. “Just stopped for a drink on my way home from work before I go to my lonely flat.”

So it seemed he was single. Excellent.

“What do you do, if I may ask?”

“You can ask me anything,” Crowley said. “And I’m in architectural design.”

“That sounds like an interesting job,” Aziraphale said, swirling his fingertip around the rim of his wineglass.

“Enh, it’s a living,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale admired his fingers around the glass of scotch. They were so long and slender, and he wanted to feel them all over himself. More than that, he wanted to hold them, to feel them between his own fingers. Oh, heavens, he was _attracted_ , and wondered how best to pursue this man. 

“So what do you do?” Crowley asked before took another sip of his scotch. 

“I own and operate a bookshop in Soho. AZ Fell & Co. Rare and Antiquarian Books.”

Crowley’s ginger eyebrows appeared from behind his glasses. “Rare and antiquarian books?”

“Yes. Nothing in my shop is younger than a half century. Except me, of course.”

Crowley grinned. “Of course. And how old are you?”

“I’m forty-two, so I’m not missing the half century mark by much.”

Crowley eyed him up and down, making Aziraphale feel a thrill. “It looks good on you.”

He smiled coquettishly. “Thank you. How old are you?”

“I just turned forty-one.”

“So we’re about the same age.”

“Seems so.”

“Excellent,” Aziraphale said, then took a sip of his wine, watching Crowley from over the rim of his glass. It had been years since he’d gone home with a stranger in a bar, but he was planning to tonight. And, the way he was feeling right now, he might just stay for as long as Crowley would let him. 

Beside him, his mobile went off and startled him. He picked it up to find another message from Anathema. “Excuse me a moment, dear,” he said apologetically.

“Go ahead,” Crowley replied with a warm smile. 

Anathema: _still stuck in traffic. I’m sorry. may need to cancel._

Aziraphale cast a look at Crowley, who was looking around the bar, then typed out a reply. 

Aziraphale: _Cancelling tonight is fine. I’ve met an interesting man._  
Anathema: _You’re shitting me!_  
Aziraphale: _I’m not. Going to talk with him a bit. Rain check?_  
Anathema: _you’ve got it. good luck!_

“Sorry about that, dear,” he said, putting his mobile down. “It shouldn’t happen again.”

“No problem. Your wife?”

Aziraphale laughed merrily at that. “No, I don’t have a wife. I’m quite single. Haven’t had a boyfriend in a couple of years.”

Crowely’s smile grew. “Ah. Yes, I’m single, too. It’s been about a year and a half since my ex and I split.”

“That’s a shame.”

He looked confused. “Why is that a shame?”

Aziraphale took another sip of his wine, licked his lips, and let them curl into a seductive smile. “Because as lovely and kind and wonderful as you are, you deserve for someone to take care of you.”

Crowley flushed red, ducking his head, and Aziraphale was pleased. 

“In truth, that was my friend, Anathema. She can’t make it tonight and had to cancel. So I’m all yours for the rest of the evening.” _And longer._

“I’d like to say I’m sorry she canceled, but I’m not,” Crowley said. 

“I’m not either. Not one bit.” He took another sip of his wine. “So is Crowley your first name?”

“No, it’s my surname. My first name is Anthony, but nobody calls me that. I prefer Crowley.”

“Well, it’s a lovely name.” Aziraphale thought he’d rather enjoy shouting it later.

“How about you?” Crowley asked. “Do you go by Aziraphale full time?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. I’ve never had a nickname.”

“Sure you have. I gave you one tonight. Angel.”

Aziraphale grinned. “I stand corrected.”

Crowley took another sip of his drink, looking a bit anxious. “Do you go to bars a lot?”

He shook his head. “No, not really. Anathema has been raving about this place for the last three weeks and I finally agreed to come, but it was a rarity for me. I spend most evenings at home. How about you?”

Crowley glanced around the bar, then back to Aziraphale. “I come here sometimes, about once a week or so. Just to have a drink on my way home from the office. Occasionally I’ll hang around and listen to the music, but I’m not exactly a barfly.”

“Well, you fit right in here. Like the place was built around you.”

He chuckled. “Thank you, I think.”

Aziraphale took another, long sip of his wine and decided to up the ante a bit. “Do you date much?”

The other man raised one eyebrow, grinning. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. I haven’t been on a date in about six months. I’ve pretty much given up on the idea of meeting Mr. Right.”

So he _was_ gay, or at least bisexual. That was fantastic news, indeed. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t give up, dear. You never know. Mr. Right might be sitting right across from you.”

Crowley grinned again. “You think so?”

“Well, I _hope _so.”__

__There came a noise from the front of the bar, and they both turned around to find a young man with a guitar adjusting a mic. Aziraphale felt a pang of disappointment - that would make it much harder to talk to Crowley, to pursue him. Then he had a flash of boldness and decided to make a play._ _

__“So you say you live around here?” he asked leadingly._ _

__“I do, about four streets over.”_ _

__“And you’re in architectural design?”_ _

__“I am.”_ _

__“Did you design your flat?”_ _

__“I did, yes. Would you like to see it?”_ _

__Aziraphale smiled victoriously, but Crowley seemed to have a sudden onset of nerves._ _

__“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m not a pervert or anything. I just thought… it’s about to get loud in here, and I’d like to see more of you. Not more of you, more of you. Just... _shit_. I’m screwing this up.”_ _

__“You didn’t screw up anything, darling. I’d love to see your flat.” _And all of you._ _ _

__

__

__“Yeah?”_ _

__“I would, very much.”_ _

__Crowley was beaming. “Then let’s get out of here before it gets loud.”_ _

__Aziraphale had thought he’d never ask._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice the chapter count went up. These boys wouldn’t stop flirting. But the next chapter WILL be smutty and it *should* be the last.

A few minutes later, he exited the bar with Crowley, coming to stand on the pavement. The neon lights made Crowley’s hair glow and reflected off his sunglasses and he was the most beautiful thing Aziraphale had ever seen. He wondered if Crowley would simply grow in beauty until his heart burst. 

Crowley seemed to be looking around with an almost anxious look on his face, as if questioning his next moves, but it made Aziraphale smile. _Everything_ about this man made him smile, honestly. 

“Do you have a car?” he asked to break the silence. 

“Huh? Oh. Yes. I do, but I don’t have it. I walk to work and home on pretty days.”

“Lovely. Shall we start walking towards your flat?”

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. Let’s. This way,” he said, then turned towards the left and started walking. Although, to be fair, what Crowley was doing could hardly be considered ‘walking’. It was slouchy, more of a saunter, and _desperately_ sexy. His hips were swinging like a pendulum and Aziraphale couldn’t help but watch his arse in his tight jeans. Aziraphale’s cock twitched in his pants and he willed it to behave. For now. 

“So have you lived in Mayfair long?” he asked to redirect his thoughts. 

“About ten years or so,” Crowley replied. His hands were in his pockets, which seemed like a minor miracle, considering how tight they were.

“Do you like it?”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s a nice area of town. I can’t complain. What about you? You live in Soho?”

“I do, yes. I have for the last twenty years.”

“Do you like it there?”

“I love it very much. It feels like home to me, does that make sense?”

He nodded. “Yeah, it does, although I don’t feel that way about my flat. It’s nice, but it’s just a flat. You know?” 

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” Aziraphale said warmly. “I’m very much looking forward to seeing it.”

“I’m excited to show you,” Crowley said, then he ducked his head, looking shy again. “Look, um, I didn’t mean anything untoward by inviting you back to my flat. I’m not expecting sex or anything. It was just about to get loud in the bar and I like you. I wanted to keep talking to you, and coming back to my place was the only thing I could think of. That’s all.”

Aziraphale thought his little show of anxiety was cute, and terribly endearing. “I get the impression you don’t often invite men home from the bar.”

Crowley shook his head. “No. In fact, I’ve never done this before. But I like you, and I didn’t want my time with you to end. It was the only thing I could think of,” he repeated.

“Well, to be honest, I’ve done this before, going home with someone I just met, but not in many years. And only once or twice, with someone I felt deeply attracted to.”

“Does that mean you feel deeply attracted to me?” Crowley asked hopefully. 

Aziraphale gave him a smile. “I do, dear. Very attracted, indeed. I can’t quite explain it, but I feel somewhat connected to you.”

Crowley beamed at that. “Yeah, I feel the same. Attracted and connected.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, “I’m glad to know I’m not alone.”

“No, angel. You’re not alone.”

“That’s wonderful news,” Aziraphale said. Then, feeling a little bold, he reached over and slipped his hand into Crowey’s elbow. Crowley looked down at it, surprised, and Aziraphale gave him a smile. “Is that alright?”

Crowley looked up at him, and he could see the smile break across his face like a wave on the shore. “It’s perfect, angel. Absolutely perfect.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Aziraphale said, and squeezed his arm a bit. “May I ask you a question, dear?”

“Of course, you can ask me anything.”

“Why do you wear sunglasses at night? You also wore them in the bar.”

“I have mild photophobia, or sensitivity to light. The shades help keep me from getting headaches.”

“Oh.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, the eyes are the window to the soul, and I’d very much like to see them.”

Crowley reached up with his free hand and pulled off his sunglasses, folded them, and put them in his pocket. He looked over at Aziraphale and oh, goodness, somehow Crowley was even _more_ gorgeous than Aziraphale had originally thought. His eyes seemed to be the lightest possible brown, almost golden, and Aziraphale felt himself get a little lost in them. 

“That alright?” Crowey asked, unsure. 

“You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale said. “Absolutely stunning.”

Crowley smiled, looking pleased. “I think you are.”

“Truly?”

“Yeah, angel. I do.”

Aziraphale was feeling blissful when they came to the zebra crossing, stopping for the signal. 

“Crowley?” he asked. 

“Yeah, angel?”

“I know you said you have no expectations, and I appreciate that, but would you be interested in possibly making love tonight?”

“Ngk.”

A small frown furrowed Aziraphale’s brow. “Oh, dear, is that too forward? I don’t want to go too fast for you, but I very much want to spend the evening with you, and to eventually kiss you and touch you. If you’d prefer, we can do something else. We don’t have to have sex.”

“No, it isn’t too fast. It’s definitely alright. I just… haven't done this in a long time. I’m not… I’m not prepared.”

He tilted his head to the side. “How do you mean?”

“I, um, we may need to stop at a chemists.”

“Oh, of course. Well, is there one near here?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah, about two streets away.”

“Then let’s go,” Aziraphale said with a smile. 

Crowley beamed back, looking relieved, and they took a right.

~*~O~*~

Aziraphale followed Crowley down the corridor of a posh building, then stood by silently while Crowley unlocked the door. He seemed nervous and it took a couple of tries, but he finally got it and smiled at Aziraphale when he pushed the door open. Aziraphale smiled in return as he stepped into the flat.

Behind him, Crowley closed the door and Aziraphale turned to see him toss his keys onto a nearby table, where they apparently lived. Then he smiled and Aziraphale felt a bit wibbly. He had no idea who was seducing who. 

“Would you like to come in?” Crowley asked, gesturing towards a room to the right. Aziraphale glanced at it, then back to Crowley. 

“I’d love to, thank you,” Aziraphale said, then followed Crowley into the lounge, looking at it. It was sleek and modern, decorated in a monochromatic way. All the furniture was black, with chrome accents. In fact, the only splashes of color in the room were the plants, of which there were quite a lot. It made him curious. 

“Can I get you a drink? A glass of wine, maybe? I have a bottle of blush I’ve been saving for a special occasion. It’s a bit sweet, though.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’d love a glass of wine, but I think I’d better pass. I’ve had three already.”

Crowley looked vaguely alarmed. “I’m not - are you drunk?”

“No, darling, I’m not. I wasn’t in the first place, but the walk here helped clear my mind a great deal. I just don’t want to _be_ drunk. I’d very much like to remember every moment of this.”

The red haired man shuffled his feet a little, his hands on his pockets. “I, yeah, me too. So, um, tea? Fizzy drink? Bottle of water?”

“I’ll have whatever you have, if that’s alright.”

“Alright, I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home,” he said, then sauntered out of the room. Aziraphale watched him go and smiled at the empty doorway when he was gone, then started looking around the lounge. There were bookcases, and he was drawn to them like a moth to flame. He’d always been of the opinion that you could learn a great deal about a person by looking at their bookshelves, and he was terribly curious to learn about Crowley. 

What he found delighted him. It seemed Crowley had a lot of adventure books and spy thrillers. He also had a selection of self-help books - titles like ‘The Art of War’. But as interesting as those were, Aziraphale’s eyes were drawn to some of the other things on his bookshelves - photos and knicknacks. There was a photo of Crowley at the pyramids of Giza, and one of him with the Eiffel Tower as a backdrop. In one, he was standing on a boat with the Statue of Liberty behind him, and in another he was on top of a snowy mountain, smiling brightly, his nose and cheeks red with cold. But Aziraphale was intrigued that in all of the photos, he was alone. There was no one with him. 

“When I got in the kitchen, I had the craving for ginger ale, so that’s what I brought us,” he heard from behind him. Aziraphale turned around with a smile to see Crowley coming back into the lounge with two glasses filled with ice and an amber, effervescent liquid. He’d lost his jacket and glasses along the way, and Aziraphale’s heart sped up when he saw him. 

“I love ginger ale,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley smiled a little sheepishly and went to the couch. Aziraphale came and sat down beside him, close enough to appear interested, but not so close as to be overbearing. As eager as he was, he didn’t want to frighten Crowley by coming on too strong. Aziraphale wanted to get everything _right_. So he accepted the offered ginger ale with a smile. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I had a look around your lounge,” he said after taking a sip. 

“Oh no. Of course not.”

Crowley seemed a little on edge, and it bothered Aziraphale. He reached over and put a gentle hand on his knee. “My dear, am I going too fast for you?”

His golden eyes were wide. “No! Not that at all.”

“Are you sure? Because now, upon reflection, I’m concerned that I may have given you the impression that I’m _only_ interested in sex, when that’s not the case.”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not,” Aziraphale said kindly. 

Crowley seemed to think for a minute. “Well, what _are_ you interested in?”

“I’d like to get to know you better. I wasn’t lying when I said I felt a connection, and I’d like to explore that a bit more, if you’re willing. To be honest, I’m thinking of this as something of a first date.”

He grinned. “You are?”

“Oh, yes. Unorthodox, to be sure, but I think it counts. The conversation and getting to know each other are the most important things in a first date, anyway, and I’d like to continue to do that. To see how connected we really are. Sex is just a pleasant byproduct, not what I’m after. Well,” he paused, smiling, “not entirely.”

“But you wouldn’t say no to sex,” Crowley said. It was phrased as a statement, but Aziraphale knew it was a question.

He smiled as openly as he could. “No, of course not. In fact, I’m hoping for sex with you - if not tonight, than on some other future date. I suppose that could change, but I don’t anticipate it will. Still, I’m _more_ hoping for the chance to feel out that connection, as I’ve said.”

“No, I don’t reckon that will change for me, either. And I’d like for this to be like a first date, too.”

“Oh, good,” Aziraphale said, then took another sip of his ginger ale. He decided to stick to light topics for now. “You have a lot of plants, I’ve noticed.”

Crowley glanced around the room, his lip quirked proudly. “Yeah, I do.”

“Are they all real?”

“They are. And most of them have been raised from seeds or cuttings.”

Aziraphale was surprised by that, and let his surprise - and admiration - show. “Goodness. You really have a green thumb.”

“I do,” Crowley admitted with a small, proud smile. “I had thought of studying botany at uni. I actually couldn’t decide between botany and architecture, until one of my lecturers told me that if I became an architect, I could fill my house with plants. But if I studied botany, I couldn’t exactly grow my own house.”

“No, I suppose not,” Aziraphale laughed. “Do you feel you made the right choice?”

“Most days I do. I have the occasional bad day when I question everything, all my life choices, but I think most people do that.”

“Yes, I imagine so.”

Crowley took a sip of his drink. “How about you? Did you always want to sell antique books?”

“Yes and no. I wanted to be a librarian as a child. It was my life’s ambition. Then in uni, I got exposed to the world of book conservation and that became my passion. So I opened the shop when I was in my twenties, and I’ve never regretted it. You wouldn’t think so, but I stay busy.”

“Lots of customers?”

“Yes, although most of them come to me by appointment. I do a lot of book restoration for clients.”

Crowley looked genuinely interested. “That sounds fascinating.”

Aziraphale flushed. “I’m hardly titillating.”

“I think you are,” he replied, and Aziraphale bit his lip in pleasure. 

“I, um, I couldn’t help but notice your photos sitting around. You like to travel?”

“I do, yeah. There’s just so much to see, you know? The world has so much to offer. I’d like to explore what and when I can. I try to go on holiday at least once a year.”

“Where are you going next?” 

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been toying with the idea of Rome.”

“Ah, Italy,” Aziraphale said with a dreamy smile.

Crowley raised a ginger eyebrow. “Have you ever been?”

“No, I’m afraid not. But I’ve always _wanted_ to go. I’ve read scads of books.”

“Maybe you could come with me,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, you’re being silly.”

“I’m only partially joking. I always take my holidays in the autumn, so we have several months between now and then. Enough for at least one or two more dates,” he teased.

Aziraphale laughed again at the twinkling in Crowley’s eyes, but he sensed that Crowley was serious. The funny thing was, so was Aziraphale. He’d only known this man two hours and was already seriously thinking about running away to Italy with him. 

Madness. Utter, brilliant madness. He felt almost dizzy with the possibilities. 

“Yes, I think we could probably squeeze in a couple of dates over the next six months.”

Crowley grinned. “I hope we do. More than a couple.”

Aziraphale felt a thrill all over. “I hope we do, too,” he said, his smile coquettish. 

There was a heat in Crowley’s gaze, then he cleared his throat and looked away for a second. “So what brought you to Mayfair tonight? You said your friend invited you?”

“She did. She went on a date a few weeks ago and the young man brought her to the bar I met you at for drinks and live music. She didn’t enjoy the bloke, but she loved the bar, and nagged me until I agreed to go on our next night out, which was tonight.”

“How often do the two of you go on nights out?”

“Not as often as she’d like. I’d say every six weeks or so.”

“Well, I’m grateful.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow and one corner of his mouth. “For what, dear?”

“I’m grateful that she went on a date to my bar, I’m grateful that she talked you into coming, and I’m incredibly fucking grateful that she canceled on you. I’d like to buy her a drink, honestly, this Anathema person.”

Aziraphale laughed. “I’m grateful for all that, too. And I’m grateful that you decided to stop in and have a drink on your way home from work tonight.”

“That too,” Crowley said with a wicked grin, and Aziraphale’s belly flipped. Goodness. His eyes were drawn to those thin lips, and he wanted to taste them, to feel them on his skin. Aziraphale had always been skeptical of the notion of ‘first sight’, but he was wondering if he’d been wrong. Even the times in the past when he’d gone home with people he’d met, he hadn’t been _this_ attracted. This felt like an entirely different thing. It was magnetic, instinctive. Something in his soul recognized something in Crowley’s, and was drawn to it. He wondered if Crowley felt the same pull he did.

“I tell you something else I’m grateful for,” Crowley said, swirling his drink. 

“What’s that, dear?”

“I’m grateful that tosser was bothering you. I don’t know if I’d have had the courage to come up to you otherwise.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’m grateful for anything and everything that contributed to us coming together, but I don’t know why you wouldn’t have had the courage to speak to me.”

Crowley looked sheepish again. “I mean, look at you.”

He looked down at himself, then back up at Crowley. “What about me?”

Crowley’s cheeks were bright red. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Aziraphale nearly melted. “I am?”

“Yeah. Fucking gorgeous, angel.”

He was practically glowing. “I think you are,” he flirted. “Seems we’re quite the pair, doesn’t it?”

Crowley grinned. “It does.”

He took a drink, then sat the glass down on the coffee table, his heart pounding. Time to make a move. “May I ask you something, Crowley?”

“Sure, angel,” Crowley replied, setting his own drink down. 

“Well, I’ve already intimated that I don’t want this to be a one night stand.”

Crowley’s grin was lopsided. “No, I don’t either.”

“Very good. So I thought perhaps we could head off that feeling by planning our second date now?”

Crowley scooted towards him a little. “We could do that. Or we could just commit to planning our next date before you leave.”

Aziraphale inched closer, too. “To be honest, darling, the way I feel right now, I might never leave.”

“That would be alright,” Crowley murmured, his eyes searching Aziraphale’s face. 

Aziraphale moved a little closer. “My darling?”

“Yeah, angel?”

“I would very much like to kiss you now.”

“You would?”

“Oh, yes. I’ve been wanting to since I laid eyes on you, and now I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t get to taste you.”

“Well, we wouldn't want you to explode,” Crowley teased, reaching up to touch Aziraphale’s face and setting his blood on fire. “That could put a damper on a second date.”

Aziraphale wet his lips. “Indeed it would. But I feel it only fair to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale could feel his breath on his lips.

“Once I kiss you, I may never want to stop.”

“You don’t have to,” Crowley whispered. “Please…”

Aziraphale stopped his mouth with a kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, alright, _fine_. You guys get TWO smut scenes and FOUR chapters. But that's _it_! No more! Okay?

Kissing Crowley was a revelation. Aziraphale had never felt anything better. It felt like he’d been stumbling around his whole life, trying to find something _right_ , and now, all of the sudden, he had. To be honest, he never wanted to do anything else. He’d be happy just to kiss Crowley for the rest of his life. 

Crowley parted his lips and sent his tongue out to trace the seam of Aziraphale’s lips, and Aziraphale whimpered a bit when he parted for him and their tongues met. He felt Crowley’s hands sink into his hair, and in turn, he reached out to touch Crowley, grabbing his shirt with one hand and flattening his other hand on Crowley’s chest. He could feel his heart pounding under his fingers, and for some reason that grounded him, made him believe that this was _real_.

It took only a moment of kissing and touching before Aziraphale was hard as a rock, throbbing in his pants. He desperately wanted to know if he was affecting Crowley the same way, but didn’t want to scare him off. Reluctantly, he decided to follow Crowley’s lead. For now. 

After a long while (and simultaneously too soon), Crowley broke the kiss, but he didn’t go far. He started pressing worshipful kisses to Aziraphale’s neck and throat, trailing his teeth and tongue across his skin. 

“Fuck, angel, you taste so good,” Crowley professed between licks and nips. 

Aziraphale leaned his head to the side to allow for more kissing, closing his eyes to revel in the feeling. “You taste good to me, too, darling.”

“I want you,” Crowley said, his words urgent. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”

“I want - oh, yes, darling. I want you, too.”

Then they were kissing again, and Aziraphale was thrilled when Crowley’s arms went around him, holding him closer. He clutched and gripped Crowley’s clothes, fighting the impulse to pull them off of him, still trying to follow his lead. But it was getting harder to do. He needed him, so badly…

He was thrilled when he felt Crowley’s hand go down to his arse, squeezing him, then slide down his thigh, almost pulling. Without breaking the kiss, Aziraphale followed the pull and swung his leg over Crowley’s lap so he was straddling him, his hands in Crowley’s hair, their mouths still on each other. He had a quick flash of panic that he’d done the wrong thing, but Crowley’s hungry moan into his mouth and the long-fingered hands flexing on his arse reassured him he hadn’t. 

He broke the kiss and looked down at Crowley. “What do you want, darling?” he asked, breathless. 

“I want you. I want everything you’ll give me.”

Aziraphale reached one hand down between them and cupped Crowley’s cock, and Crowley moaned against his neck. 

“Can I suck you?”

Crowley nodded, rutting his hips and thrusting into Aziraphale’s hand, his own hands still clutching and massaging his arse. “Yeah. Fuck yeah. I’d love that. Will you fuck me later?”

Aziraphale grinned and nipped his earlobe. “My darling, it would be my pleasure. But we have time, don’t we? There’s no rush.”

“No, no rush at all,” Crowley agreed. 

“Very good,” Aziraphale said approvingly, then captured his mouth again. Crowley kissed him back eagerly, releasing little moans of pleasure into Aziraphale’s mouth, and Aziraphale set to work on Crowley’s button and zip. It was close quarters, and he couldn't see what he was doing, but he finally got the tight jeans open enough to pull out Crowley’s cock. When he did, he broke the kiss and looked down at it, cradled in his hand. 

“My goodness, Crowley. That’s quite a cock.”

“Angel,” he whined. 

Aziraphale pumped him gently. “Tell me what you want, Crowley. Tell me how to make you feel good.”

“Your hand… your hand is so fucking soft….”

“You know what else is soft?”

“What?”

“My mouth.” Crowley whined and Aziraphale grinned wickedly. “Would you like me to suck you, darling?”

He nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

Aziraphale placed a kiss on his mouth. “It's my pleasure,” he whispered, then climbed off Crowley’s lap, coming to kneel before him, between his legs, hand still wrapped around his erection. Crowley was slouched in his seat, his hair a mess and his eyes hooded, his mouth hanging open. Aziraphale loved seeing him like that… but then he rather thought he’d like seeing Crowley any way. 

Aziraphale leaned over and licked a stripe from the base of Crowley’s cock to the tip, making Crowley hiss, and then ran his tongue along the slit, catching the little drop of precome. When the flavor burst across his tongue, he let out a salacious moan he couldn't help. Crowley just tasted so _good_.

“Angel…”

Aziraphale looked up and gave him a wicked smile, then bent his head again and took first one of Crowley’s bollocks into his mouth, then the other, rolling them around on his tongue. Crowley closed his eyes and groaned, leaning his head back. 

“My darling, you taste so good.”

“I - I do?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely scrummy.”

Crowley huffed a disbelieving laugh. “I’ve never been called scrummy before.”

“Well you are. Truly the most delicious thing I've ever put in my mouth.”

“I’m glad,” Crowley said, sounding out of breath and eager. “Please, angel…”

He didn't tease anymore, he just opened his mouth and took the head of Crowley’s cock in. Crowley let out a low, sustained moan, and Aziraphale swirled his tongue around the head, pumping his shaft slowly. When he felt he’d gotten all of Crowley’s taste, he bobbed and took him a little deeper with each stroke, a little at a time, until his mouth was full of the heavy weight of Crowley’s cock. 

“Shit, angel. Shit. Your mouth… God. So good.”

Aziraphale bobbed on him, sucking him ardently, hollowing his cheeks with every upward stroke. Crowley made little moans of pleasure, and thrust up lightly into Aziraphale’s mouth. Aziraphale liked that, wanted more of it, so he reached for Crowley’s hand and put it on his head. 

Crowley groaned. “Angel….”

He reached for Crowley’s other hand and put it on his head, beside the first, squeezing it to let him know what he wanted. Crowley fisted his hands in Aziraphale’s hair, and Aziraphale moaned around him. 

“Angel… angel… fuck!”

As he sucked, Aziraphale reached up and grabbed the waist of Crowley’s jeans and pants together, and pulled them down, wanting to get him naked. Crowley lifted his bum accommodatingly, and Aziraphale ran his hands all over the newly-exposed thighs, feeling the coarseness of the hairs on his skin. 

“Jesus, Aziraphale. Where did you learn to suck cock like this? My God, your mouth is the best heaven I’ve ever known. I never want you to stop.”

Aziraphale never _wanted_ to stop. He wanted to suck Crowley’s cock for the rest of his life, but he was also eager for the taste of Crowley’s spend. So he pulled on Crowley’s thighs until his arse hung off the edge of the couch, then he gathered some of the dripping, excess saliva from the blowjob on his fingers and slid them between Crowley’s cheeks, seeking out his hole. 

“Yes, fuck yes, I want that. Yes, angel. Fuck!”

Aziraphale started circling his rim, massaging him gently until he could press the tip of a finger into his hole. Crowley let out a filthy moan, and Aziraphale hummed around his cock. 

“Yes, Aziraphale. Fuck me on that finger. Fuck, yes. More.”

Aziraphale fucked him slowly with one finger for a little while, careful to avoid his prostate for now, then started to ease a second finger in beside the first. Crowley let out a long, filthy moan and tightened his hands in Aziraphale’s hair. 

“Shit, angel. Shit. Yes. If your fingers are this thick, I can’t imagine what your cock is going to be like. God. I want that.”

He fucked Crowley on those two fingers, still sucking him, trying to decide what _he_ wanted, when he made up his mind. Wickedly, he applied his fingers to Crowley’s prostate and began to massage, at the same time opening his mouth and taking him deeper. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Angel! It’s too good, I’m going to come!”

That was exactly what Aziraphale wanted, and he worked him harder, seeking to bring him off. 

Crowley was bucking on the couch in front of him, in the throes of his pleasure, and Aziraphale was about to combust with the desire to taste him, so he applied a little additional pressure to his prostate. Crowley screamed, his whole body going taut and his cock erupting into Aziraphale’s throat. 

Aziraphale worked him through as best he could, gentling his hand and mouth gradually, sucking up every drop of the come, until Crowley was pushing at his head. “I can’t, angel. I can’t...I can't take anymore.”

He slowly slid his fingers out, then pulled off his cock, pressing a sweet kiss to the still-flushed head, making Crowley twitch. Aziraphale smiled at that reaction, then laid a soft kiss on Crowley’s bollocks, before leaning up and catching his lax mouth in a sweet, slow kiss. Crowley’s arms went around him, holding him, and Aziraphale found it was all he wanted in the world. 

“Angel… that was… wow,” Crowley said, out of breath. 

Aziraphale smiled. “As long as you liked it, dear.”

“Just… give me a moment and I’ll repay the favor.”

“No, darling. You don’t have to.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I do, but there’s something else I want more.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like for us to plan a second date, so I know I’ll get to do this again.”

Crowley looked a little puzzled for just a moment, then smiled. “I’ve had an idea.”

“What’s that?”

“Why don’t we go to breakfast in the morning?”

Aziraphale grinned, fairly certain he knew what Crowley was getting at. “I like that idea. Shall I pick you up here tomorrow at nine thirty?”

“You could - or you could just spend the night with me. Sleep with me. Let me hold you all night and wake up in each other’s arms.”

Aziraphale leaned over and kissed him. “I like that idea, but only if we go to brunch instead of breakfast. I’m going to want some quality time with you in the morning.”

Crowley beamed. “You got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to hatknitter for the beta on this chapter!


End file.
